crista from the block* ...goes blog

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

yesterday was my BFF's birthday, sooo tonight we are going to dinner at a restaurant of her choice: Estrella Negra.

while out shopping for THE perfect birthday card, and princess-inspired birthday balloons, i had a moment. i realized that we are no longer "young." we are closer to 30's than we are to 20's. we can no longer show up at a restaurant with glitteratti, balloons, and party hats to celebrate birthdays. we are mature, classy women (ha) who sip on wines that appropriately pair with our dinner.

fuck. i mean.... what would you think of two grown-ass women accompanied by glitteratti and unicorns as they dine contemporary latin style?

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

This article was written in the New York Times and seriously made me laugh out loud. Reminds me of my life in Chicago travelling from salon to salon.... looking for some place ((safe)) to put my car.

The other day on Fifth Avenue in the 50s, I was confronted with one of those ubiquitous red warning signs with a snowflake: “Snow Route / No Standing During Emergency / Vehicles Towed.” Underneath it, another red sign said: “No Standing Anytime.”

So there was no standing when there was a snow emergency and there was no standing when there was not a snow emergency. Like, no standing ever. But sometimes really no standing.

If there was no standing anytime, why did I need to know there was also no standing during a snow emergency? Did the Ten Commandments say also no adultery on Hamptons weekends?

Luckily, I was on foot. You would not want to be driving and trying to decipher the esoteric code of New York City’s parking signs at the same time.

So you could stand there weekdays and Saturdays before 3 a.m. and after 5 a.m., and all day Sunday. Except when you couldn’t. Which was all the time — unless you were a taxi. Did street cleaners come around in those two wee hours? Deliveries? Or was there some other mysterious reason the street had to be free of cars before dawn?

A parking pole in the West 40s posed another riddle. Underneath the standard “No Parking Anytime” was a sign saying “NYC Parking Card Available.”

Huh? A card not to park anytime?

Some signs just took a little time to decipher. Along First Avenue in the 50s, there was “No standing 7-10 AM/4-7 PM/Except Sunday.” Simple enough: Sundays you could stand all you want. Weekdays and Saturdays, only between 10 a.m. and 4 p.m. and after 7 p.m.

Hmmmm. Only commercial vehicles could stand there — for three hours, if they bought a meter ticket. Maybe.

I was contemplating the nuanced difference between standing and parking when I spotted a pair of signs on 40th Street near Avenue of the Americas. One said, “No Standing/7AM-7 PM/Except Sunday.” Fair enough. You could leave your car there any night and all day Sunday. Wrong. Because the other sign said, “No Parking/2 AM-6 AM/ Mon Wed Fri.” So, as I figured it, three days a week for four hours in the middle of the night you could sit (uh, stand) there in your car but you could not leave it parked, not without risking a ticket.

In Midtown, a pole — virtually a sign tree — spouted an array of proscriptions requiring consultation of a calendar if not an astrological chart. The first banned standing from 3 p.m. to 8 p.m. Monday through Friday. The next said no parking for street cleaning from 8:30 a.m. to 9 a.m. except Sunday. Then came a sign allowing Muni-Metered one-hour parking weekdays from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. And finally another permitting parking from 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. Saturdays.

My head was still spinning when I peeked into a garage near Times Square to see how drivers might avoid the confusion of street parking.

For up to half an hour, the rate was $9.29 (plus, of course, 18 percent parking tax.) For two hours, $17.74. Twelve hours, $29.57. Twenty-four hours, $34.64.

Except if you enter in the 24 hours starting at 4 a.m. Saturdays, when the rate drops to $11.83 for 12 hours, or the 24 hours starting at 4 a.m. Sundays, when the rate is $8.45 for up to 12 hours, or if you enter on Mondays through Fridays between 4 a.m. and 10 a.m. and exit by 8 p.m. …

Thursday, May 28, 2009

We zipped up our hoodies, tied up our converse, and headed out the door. With my neighbors, I walked over to a movie theater in the 'hood which claims to have the best popcorn in the city. I digress.... only because of the multiple flavors available to add to your popcorn does Landmark Theather stand at the top of my list.

Movie tickes sold for 4$ at our local theater. We saw The Soloist. Although I assumed the movie to be predictable and without creativity, I was surprised at the outcome of this movie. The movie was full of interesting information that I was before ignorant to and did not disappoint.

I was never aware of the LAMP Community in LA that houses poor and homeless people with severe disabilities, until I saw this movie. Los Angeles is home to over 90,000 homeless people, more than New York, Chicago, and San Francisco combined. Often times, the homeless people of LAMP's community are harassed by cops who perform twice-daily sweeps and trash the residents' belongings. Read more about it here.

Years ago, when I still lived in Fort Wayne, I was dating a guy who got weekly haircuts at a barber shop in our neighborhood. One day while at the barber shop, he noticed a guy sweeping hair and performing other small jobs around the shop. Turns out this guy was homeless, had been hired by the shop for small amounts of cash.

Barry [Mr. Homeless] was hired by [guy I was dating at the time] to clean and paint his basement for a mere 40-50$. Eventually we introduced Barry to a few neighbors in the 'hood, many who also hired Barry for odd jobs around their homes. Barry moved into an apartment owned by one of our neighbors, and they hired him full-time as their handy-man. For quite a while, Barry enjoyed the improved lifestyle and took advantage of ordinary things like sleeping in a warm bed, and shopping at the grocery store for food. BUT although Barry had a house to live in, he still had the mentality of a homeless person. Eventually, he moved back in to the streets. We have not seen or heard from him since.

Who were we to assume that Barry was not living the life he loved?Who were we to tell Barry that there was more to life?Who were we to attempt at changing a person unwilling to change?

Saturday, May 23, 2009

After being bombarded with guests this weekend, I realize how much I truly value my "me" time.

My recent move to Chicago has attracted two different groups of people back into my life: Friends of mine living in Chicago that I have not seen in 2 years, and Friends in Minneapolis that need a place to stay when they visit Chicago.

Years ago, while working at a salon in Chicago, I became pretty good friends with a few of my guests. One of those friends resurfaced this weekend. He made an appointment and paid a visit to the salon I am currently working in. After cutting his hair, we decided to do dinner and catch up. We ended up at the Earwax Cafe for burgers (black bean), fries, and milkshakes (vegan).... and then over to a Wine Cafe for 2 flights of red wine. We caught up on our lives... work... relationships... friends... dogs... workout regimines... and family. As the night was coming to a perfect end with a good friend, he asked to crash at my place.

What is up with guys that think they can crash at your place just because you went 'out' with them?

You see, the problem is: A. He knew I already had out of town guests this weekend. B. I am not attracted to him in any way, shape, or form (and he knows it). and C. I had just got done telling him about my Mr. McDreamy.

The weekend has progressed. I've got two guys staying with this this weekend... guys who were at one point in time really good friends of mine. They promised the weekend would not be full of gayness, but the weekend HAS been full of flying fucking rainbows, cockrings, inflatable gags, and anal beads. I was promised shopping, and I got International Mr. Leather. I was promised a nice Sushi dinner... but instead, I got dinner with International Mr. Leather.

My friends have changed.Or maybe... it is me that has changed?

I just know that I opted out of the gay bars last night and stayed home (when I finally got home.) There are 2 guys sleeping (snoring) on my living room floor... still in the clothing they wore out last night... and I hope to play on my own schedule today... instead of waiting around for other people the entire day...........

My dream is live on a white sandy beach... in a major city with beautiful 75-90 degree weather everyday.... surrounded by raw food restaurants and organic farmers markets.Reality is... I live in Chicago.... a city that I absolutely love.

My dream is to be whisked away to some far away place by the man of my dreams, never to be returned.Reality is... I hover in this wonderful world of dating.

My dream is to live an Organic Raw lifestyle 100% of the time.Reality is... Junk Food is everywhere.... temptation is hard to resist.

My dream is to devote every day of my life to rest and pleasure.Reality is... I devote a good portion of my life to work and survival.

If you had the choice between living reality or a dream, what would you choose?

Monday, May 11, 2009

I drove my car in the middle of the nightI just wanted to see you so badThe road was dark but the stars were brightI just wanted to see you so badIt didn't matter what my friends would sayI was gonna see you anyway

I just wanted to see you so badI just wanted to see you so badYou were staying in a big hotelI just wanted to see you so badI didn't know you very wellI just wanted to see you so badWe'd always talked on the telephoneBut I'd never been with you all aloneI just wanted to see you so badI just wanted to see you so badI got off on the seventh floorI just wanted to see you so badI couldn't have asked for anything moreI just wanted to see you so badI saw your face so clear and brightI must have been crazy but it sure felt right

Ijust wanted to see you so badI just wanted to see you so badI just wanted to see you so badI just wanted to see you so bad

Saturday, May 9, 2009

If you travel at all you know that the airlines are now charging a fee for checked baggage. Quite interesting since this incentivizes all of us who fly to try to avoid checking bags and attempt jam as much in the overhead compartments as possible. Where if they run out of room they will check your bag at no charge....... hmmmmmmmm. As a frequent traveler it amazes me that the airlines need to turn to this "excess."

I seldom am on a flight that is not completely full. While I am lucky enough to avoid most of these fees due to my stature with a couple of airlines..... that and a couple of hundred dollars will get a bag of trail mix..if your lucky.....I most recently traveled with three bags and while I escaped the fee on the first two.. the third bag cost me $100 each time I checked in. I was so frustrated I just left my third bag at my second destination..... it was my golf clubs which certainly deserved to be left behind, but the point is excess baggage can be costly. I know because I too come with some excess baggage. It is part of who I am today and while I certainly comfortable with the "extra fees" that come with it, it certainly can test the patience of those close to me. While I certainly try to leave it behind some times, there are some "trips" where the baggage accompanies me....and I ask for patience from those who it may effect because I do see where it can fill up the overhead compartment . It's part of that obstacle course I spoke of earlier, a course that I am determined to succeed at without the loss of the one I love. So while my bags will always be with me, I know I can be more sensitive on how I "carry on" with them. Everyday I learn and thats why life is so fascinating.

I am suffering. I am in need of a friend. My best friend. And he is gone.... busy.... distracted.

Amazing that my best friend has not been willing or able to be encouraging...supportive... compassionate in my time of need.

Finally,I know what it feels like to be a single girl desparate for attention. Desparate to talk to someone that will listen. Desparate for a hug.

Before I met him, I would have considered myself an independent person... un-emotional.That has changed.I trusted him and counted on him. He was always right where I needed him.He brought out the best in me and is now exposing the worst.

So I find myself back in the pool of "dating." It's sink or swim and I am determined to become a skilled swimmer and an expert diver.

The dating scene is whack. I share with you an e-mail I received via Loopt:

From: EthanSubject: My nest

Is where bird will pass out from exhaustion from a strenuous jackhammering of your sultry love orface. My passionate thrusts will only be followed by leaving your angelic face looking like a painters radio

Thursday, May 7, 2009

According to fruitnut.com, the World's longest-living, healthiest dog was a vegetarian. Read more:

[[ According to the Sunday Telegraph, Bramble, living in Bridgewater, Somerset, UK, has just (August 2002) celebrated her 27th birthday, possibly making her the world's oldest living dog and a contender for the "Guiness Book of Records".

How exactly does a dog live to be 189 (in dog years)? - Anne Heritage, 43, describes how Bramble survived at least one near-death-experience right at the outset in February 1977: "The day after we brought her home, the [New Quay rescue centre] kennels flooded and the other dogs drowned," says Ms. Heritage. "So she's been incredibly lucky."

Aside from luck, Bramble's secret to longevity is a vegetarian diet. Ms. Heritage is a vegan and has brought up her pooch on the same diet regime she herself follows.

"She has a big bowl of rice, lentils and organic vegetables every evening," says Ms. Heritage.

In addition to healthy eating, exercise is a must. Last year while recovering from a back injury from a fall, which doctors said could have paralyzed her, Bramble began taking swimming lessons at a canine hydrotherapy pool in Stolford. She now enjoys a a half an hour at a canine hydrotherapy pool, where Anne's partner Roy Franklin takes her weekly on Fridays..

quote

"...the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship is the one you have with yourself. And if you find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous." [Carrie, Sex and the City]